Work Text:
Watch Your Colors Grow
*********************
I am miserable.
I want to walk into the sea and never come out again. I want to throw something at someone or scream at someone or just shout into the void as loud as I can. I hate everything and everyone and life feels unbearable and unfair and I’m this close to just leaving my dome and letting the ammonia take me. But that would mean moving and moving is hell and even breathing feels like torture and why did I ever come here, why didn’t I just take a spacewalk without the suit when I still had the chance, if Stratt was here I would pour both of her precious coffees over her head and then I would give her a powerpoint presentation on something super boring and watch the will to live drain out of her eyes and I would only feel a little bad about that and then I would-
Ok.
Deep breath.
All things considered, I think I’m handling this heat pretty well.
And even if I wasn’t (which is a big IF, okay? I’m fine!) no one is allowed to judge me because my biodome is like a flipping furnace! The air, which is somehow dry and humid at the same time, presses in on me on all sides. Even though I’m sweating buckets I also have this constant urge to pee because of the unholy amounts of water I’m drinking. My clothes are soaked through and stick to my skin. I hate that feeling.
Hate it. So. Much!
The worst part? I have no one to blame but myself.
When I mentioned to the team in charge of the weather that I love the fog but wouldn’t mind a nice, warm summer day every once in a while I really should have been more precise. The only thing Eridians know about summer on earth is that it’s the hottest season on the planet.
Eridians and humans have very different definitions of the word ‘hot’. Combine that with their endearing desire to give their savior everything I could ever want and their crippling fear of disappointing me (or just fear of Rocky’s wrath, who knows) and it’s no wonder they overshot the mark by lightyears. They basically turned my home into a certified crock pot. I should have seen this coming. It took them months to figure out a temperature for the water that wouldn't either scald me or give me pneumonia.
At least that is Rocky’s humble opinion on the matter. He spent ten precious minutes this morning berating me for putting too much trust in “the idiots” who run this place and who “don’t know leaky, sweaty Grace” like he does before he finally hurried outside to “fix this mess” like he fixes everything. The rant might have gone on even longer if he hadn’t noticed how I wasn’t snarking back or defending the poor biodome team like I usually would because I was too busy not dying of heatstroke.
So yeah, that had been a fun morning.
Cranking up the heat had been a quick overnight affair (which I hadn’t noticed because I’d been peacefully asleep in my air-conditioned house at the time) but circling the hot air out and letting fresh and cool air back in would take a lot longer.
I’d barricaded myself in my house and hunkered down right in front of the fan with all the icepacks in my stock. Rocky and Adrian occasionally dropped in on me to make sure I was alright before going back out to take care of the mess. For the first time since arriving on Erid I was glad that they didn’t want to hang around and cuddle. The heat was turning me into a monster and physical contact on top of that might have made me bite one of their limbs off.
I’m exaggerating of course.
(no I’m not)
Fortunately it’s gotten much better over the day and while it is still too hot for my tastes I didn’t want to cancel afternoon classes as well. The pebbles are always so sad about missing school and I hate disappointing them.
And I’m a teacher! I’ve guided more than one class through a heatwave back in my day. It helps that, as uncomfortable as I am, at least I’m the only one suffering. The pebbles are safe and sound behind their barrier and even if they weren’t, their baseline is much higher than the current temperature in my dome. This hellfire is probably their idea of a mild winter day.
I’ve done my best to make teaching a bit more bearable for me at least. I put on one of Ilyukhina’s skirts and bunched it up at the sides so it is barely covering my knees. For a shirt I've chosen the rattiest thing I own, fabric so threadbare a strong gust of wind could tear it right off my body. Rocky told me to just go without a shirt because it’s not like I’d look any different to the pebbles but the day I teach with my bare chest in front of children will be a cold day in hell.
Or a cold day in my dome, as things are right now.
I did forgo socks and shoes. I’ve been walking around my dome barefoot before and it’s usually not a problem. This is not a normal beach where I have to look out for crabs or broken glass or sharp seashells.
But today my big toe catches on something buried in the sand and I yelp. It stings and I jump up and down on one leg while I hold my injured foot.
My students immediately jerk to attention and frantic chirps reach my ears. I hold up a hand without looking. “Don’t you dare press that panic button! This is not an emergency, I’m fine!”
Quinn, who’d been halfway across the room to body slam the red button near the front, freezes mid sprint. I breathe a sigh of relief. Ever since the button has been installed on their side of the classroom my pebbles have been chomping at the chance to finally use it. Last week I twirled my pen a bit too hard and poked myself in the eye and they almost declared it a DEFCON 1 emergency. I tried explaining to them the difference between their teacher being clumsy and a true medical emergency. I even told them the story about the wolf and the boy which they predictably did not get at all. At this point I’m assuming that they simply want to do it.
But what did we expect? They are kids and we put a big red button right in front of them and told them not to press it.
We’ve had better ideas.
Taking it away again is not an option so I just have to hope for the best and that they won’t call in the cavalry one day because I pulled a muscle or something.
After the stinging in my foot subsides I retrace my steps and bend down to unearth the thing that almost made me faceplant. What I pull out of the sand is a smooth gemstone about the size of my palm. Seeing it, all the pain and discomfort is momentarily forgotten.
“Oh wow.”
That’s a rare find! After they’d decided on a place for my dome and partitioned off the area, the engineering team had cleared the ground of bigger debris so they could cover it with the artificial sand Rocky had requested for me. I wouldn’t have minded a bit of variety in the landscape but apparently they thought that the bigger the rocks, the bigger the danger to me. I guess I can’t blame them for that conclusion considering the condition I was in when I arrived on their planet. I still wish I’d been awake for all of these initial biodome brainstorming sessions. Maybe then they wouldn’t have essentially wrapped me in metaphorical bubble wrap for the first few months of my stay here.
You’d think Rocky would have supported me in my quest for bodily autonomy since he knows from our adventures that I’m not as breakable as I might seem. But I think my friend was just too happy to have others fuss and worry over me as much as he’s had to do for four years all by himself.
I guess I can’t blame him for that either.
In the end he did tell them to back off with the safety features when they tried to install soft padding all around my house.
While they did their best to clear the space, some stuff still slipped through the cracks. Like pretty, pretty gemstones. This is only the second one I’ve found so far. They are like my own version of a four-leaved clover.
“What what what?” The pebbles all shout and I chuckle at their excitement. I hobble over to the barrier, trying in vain to ignore the way my shirt sticks to my back, and show them the stone I’ve found.
There is a moment of anticipatory silence before someone from the back shouts: “Boring.”
The others immediately shush them.
“That is… nice stone, Teacher Grace,” Sam drawls in a tone that reminds me of a parent that is trying very hard to find something they can compliment about their kid’s abysmal art project. “Good find.”
“Yes yes, very… smooth,” Len adds. They sound so confused, the poor thing. “And… good size?”
“Good size,” Sam agrees.
I burst out laughing. They are so precious, I can’t deal!
“You, my dear little pebbles, have no poker face and thank Erid for that!” Before they can ask me about poker I add: “I know that you can’t ‘see’ it, but this stone is very pretty to a human. It has beautiful colors.”
And it does. It looks like a Malachite. Dark green swirling with black lines. When I hold it up to the light it shimmers and sparkles.
“What color?” Tori asks.
One of the first lessons I’d given as their official teacher had been about the visible light spectrum. We could only get into it at a very theoretical level but the concept had fascinated them and they’d asked a million questions. Unfortunately there was no way I could ever describe colors to a species that ‘saw’ exclusively through echolocation. Instead I did my best by giving them examples from earth. They still don’t know what blue looks like but they know it’s the color of the sky and the sea.
“It’s a deep and rich green. Like the moss that grows on the darker side of trees.”
A murmur goes through the crowd. They really love moss for some reason.
“Do you like colorful stones a lot, Teacher Grace?”
“I do,” I admit. I’ve never been one for geology. Someone else could probably tell you a lot more about the gems that can occasionally be found on Erid and how they differ from the ones on earth. I have no idea if the stone I’m holding right now is actually a Malachite or just the Eridian equivalent and I’m not in any hurry to figure it out. To me they are just pretty to look at.
My pebbles are clicking and chirping among themselves and I snap my fingers to get their attention back. “Ok, let’s keep going. I say we keep the day short, your poor teacher is melting.”
My human kids would have jumped with joy. My pebbles groan and complain.
I grin and shake my head. For the rest of the lesson I keep the stone in my hand.
It’s pleasantly cool.
************************************
The next day the temperature is thankfully back to normal and I’m in a much better mood. I am chatting with some of my students and waiting on stragglers when Sam bursts into the area. They run up to the barrier where we’ve installed a transfer hatch. It uses the same mechanism as the one Rocky built for the two of us in our tunnel all those years ago.
They drop something in on their side and excitedly tap the xenonite, beckoning me over.
“Teacher Grace, Teacher Grace, quick!”
“Hold your horses, I’m coming.”
“Don’t have horses. Have surprise.”
I lean down and pull the box towards my side, tilting my head away for a second so I don’t get a face full of ammonia. When the danger is over I look down and gasp.
It’s a gemstone. It is flat and smooth and a brilliant blue color that I haven’t seen around here before. I barely keep myself from reaching in with my bare hands to pick it up. I’ve only made that mistake a few times and have finally learned my lesson. Instead I pull my sweater over my fingers and gingerly lift the gem out of the box. It is still quite hot through the material but bearable.
“Does Teacher Grace like my gift?” Sam asks and preens when the other pebbles come closer for a look. “I searched for many many earth hours and fought many predators for it. I almost died. Twice.”
Some of the others gasp in wonder while a few of the older pebbles make a sound that, if I had to imagine a human expression to go with it, would probably include a lot of eyerolling. I doubt that my little pebble’s search was quite as dramatic as they make it seem but it is the thought that counts.
“It's wonderful. And you want to give it to me?”
“Yes yes yes!”
Some teachers were strictly against accepting gifts from their students and while I could understand their reasoning I was never strong enough to establish that boundary for myself. Every time a kid came up to me with a picture they’d drawn or a little trinket that made them think of me, all I could do was accept it with nothing but gratitude.
This, of course, is much more than just a trinket and the thought crosses my mind that I maybe shouldn’t take it. But it’s not like I can bring this to a bank or anything like that and even if I could, what would I need money for here? I don’t even have a salary. Everything I need is provided for me by the elders which was a bit of an adjustment, to be honest. And Eridians don’t have any use for gemstones, they can barely tell them apart from normal rocks.
Glancing at Sam’s excited wiggling I decide that there is really only one thing left to say.
“Thank you so much!”
Sam trills with happiness. “What color is it?”
“It’s blue, like the sky just before the sun goes down.”
“Is it pretty?”
“Very pretty.”
************************************
That is how it starts.
My pebbles are all good kids and a tight knit group. There are rarely fights or tensions and I can honestly say that they are all friends.
But Sam, showing all of them up with a gift that made Teacher Grace smile softly with tears in his eyes?
That means war.
*************************
The next day Quinn brings me a turquoise oval gem. The little ball of nerves drops it multiple times before they manage to throw it into the transfer hatch.
“It shimmers just like the northern lights.”
Quinn boasts all day about their find. They run circles around their classmates in a manner that even I can tell is supposed to annoy them. I’m about to tell them to cut it out when one of the other pebbles trips them and sends Quinn somersaulting over the floor.
I wonder if I’ll have to introduce them to detention soon.
********************
Tori brings me a tiny gemstone that looks like a Ruby.
“The red of a strawberry, rife and fresh. My favorite fruit.”
The four-legged pebble is very bashful and modest in the aftermath which saves them from jealous retaliation. Not that anyone would have done anything to them either way. They all love Tori and are very protective of them.
Quinn is still sulking.
***************************
Sam again, this time with something that reminds me of a Rose Quartz.
“Pink, like the inside of a cat’s ear.” I doodle a little cat on my special board so they can all hear. “Soft and fuzzy. They purr when you scratch them behind the ear.”
I can tell that Sam is gearing up to be insufferable about it, something about the tilt of their carapace and the way they rub two of their claws together. But then they pause and settle down, just quietly accepting my heartfelt thanks.
That’s character growth if I’ve ever seen it and I’m very proud.
***************************
About a week later little Sal drops something into the box. It’s at the end of the last lesson and I’d noticed that their friends had been making encouraging noises at them all day. Sal is the smallest of the bunch and painfully shy.
I reach inside and unearth something that looks like an Amethyst. It’s the biggest one yet.
“Lavender,” I tell them softly and take a deep, exaggerated breath. “It is a flower and its scent calms you down and helps you fall asleep when you are feeling restless.”
Sal chirps in delight and the others congratulate them on their wonderful find. Even Quinn and Sam.
I don’t think we are going to need detentions any time soon.
My pebbles are the best.
*******************
Stone after stone after stone wanders into the little transfer hatch. My collection grows with every day. Some of the gems repeat themselves and I’m afraid I might run out of comparisons but somehow I never do. Every stone is unique and every time I look at one my mouth forms the words before my brain knows what it’s going to say.
One day Len puts something into the hatch and when I open it on my side I stop in my tracks.
A normal rock, not a gemstone. It is a nondescript brown and not very big. The only thing that keeps it apart from other rocks is its smooth surface and unique shape. It is almost perfectly round. That’s probably why Len mistook it for a gemstone and brought it. To them it looks like all the others.
“Is it pretty?” they ask and I finally take it out of the hatch. It has cooled down enough. “What color is it?”
I hold the nondescript and ordinary stone in my hand and feel warmth in my heart.
“It is perfect.”
I take a closer look at the color and smile.
***********************
That evening I sit on the beach and watch the artificial sun disappear behind my fake horizon. If I squint my eyes it almost looks real.
Rocky saunters over and plops down next to me.
“Long day?”
He makes a noise that sounds disturbingly like a human groan and a trumpet. “You have to stop giving the scientists suggestions for different weather. They almost caused one of your so called Ice Ages in here with their newest configuration. You are lucky I caught it in time to stop them.”
I wince and bump my shoulder against him. “Me and my frostbitten feet thank you.”
He spots the rock I still hold in my hand and exhales loudly through his vents. “More stones? Your house is a mess already. Yesterday I almost tripped over one of them and broke all of my limbs! All of them, Grace!”
“Good thing Adrian promised that you would build me a shelf on your next free day so I can finally properly display them.”
“Adrian promised what?”
“And don’t be like that,” I say and hold the rock up against the fading light. “This one is my favorite.”
“You say that about all of them when you bring them home,” he scoffs and watches me admire my latest addition. “What’s so special about this one?”
I turn towards him and hold the stone up next to him.
I was right.
It is exactly Rocky’s shade.
“It reminds me of home.”